


Looking from an Angle

by J (j_writes)



Category: Easy Allies RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: "Don't touch me."





	

**Author's Note:**

> [fictional characters based on the internet personas of actual people, doing entirely fictional things.]
> 
> (also contains mention of Ian Hinck/Brad Ellis)

“Don’t touch me.”

It happens suddenly. They’re in Brandon’s office and Mike’s so excited he can’t keep still, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he relays the details of the game announcement to Brandon, leaning down over his shoulder to watch him pull it up on his computer. His hand lands on Brandon’s shoulder, his chest pressing against his back, and he feels Brandon go stiff against him.

“Don’t - ” Brandon leans away suddenly, out of Mike’s grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

“Oh.” Mike lets his hands fall to his sides. There’s no humor to Brandon’s tone, no hint of a smile in his expression, and Mike holds his hands up defensively, backing away from the desk. “I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “Sometimes I just get - ”

“I know,” Brandon replies. His expression softens a little, and so does his voice as he repeats, “I know. It’s just - it’s different. I’m not Brad, I’m your boss. And I know you get excited, but there’s a level of professionalism that - ”

“Okay,” Mike interrupts. “Got it, I’m sorry. I can be a little…much for people, I know.” He folds his hands carefully behind his back. “I won’t do it again.”

Brandon nods “Thank you,” he says simply. He turns back to his computer. “Polygon?”

“Um.” Mike can’t think for a moment, and finally nods. “It was on Polygon, yeah.” He backs toward the door to the office before adding, “Maybe go find Damiani after you read it. He’s really losing it.”

Brandon smiles, a little subdued. “I will.”

Mike backs the rest of the way out of the office, nearly backing into Ben. "Were you telling him about - ?“ Ben asks, and Mike grins, nodding.

“I was, yeah,” he says, and feels a little bit less awful as Ben’s hand lands on his arm, gripping there in excitement. He tosses his arm around Ben as they make their way down the hall, just because he can, because it feels good to have someone warm and close.

Mike is careful after that, keeps his hands to himself around Brandon, and even on that last night, during that last stream, he’s occupied with Brad, who’s crying, and Kyle, who’s too quiet, and Ian, who’s trying to put on a good face but being coldly bitter underneath, so Mike barely sees Brandon at all. It’s not until afterwards, when the cameras are off, that he makes his way over to him. Brad’s still crying, but Brad’s probably going to be crying for days, so Mike leaves him on the couch with Ben and crosses to Jones, who's standing in the corner, watching Ian gather their things from the booth and looking lost. 

“I…” Mike can’t find the words, so he holds out a hand. “Thank you.”

Brandon lets out a harsh, painful laugh and instead of shaking Mike’s hand, he reaches out and drags him into a fierce hug.

“Don’t,” he says. “Just…don’t, okay?“ 

Mike isn’t quite sure what he’s asking for, but he nods anyway, feeling a few tears leak out onto the shoulder of Brandon’s shirt as he closes his eyes and burrows his face there for just a moment. Brandon’s hand lands roughly against the back of his head, ruffling his hair, and his “Thank _you_ ” is nearly lost against the side of Mike’s head.

“’s gonna be okay,” Mike says when he finally straightens up, with a conviction he doesn’t feel, and Brandon nods dully.

“Yeah,” he agrees. "It is. Somehow.“

Ian emerges from the booth then, sliding up alongside Mike, and Mike lets an arm drop around their shoulders, squeezing them close. Brandon reaches out again, claps a hand to Mike’s shoulder, ruffles Ian’s hair, and turns away, toward the others.  
"We’re gonna be okay,” Mike says again, quieter, and Ian nods beside him, but lets their head drop heavily against his shoulder, sighing shakily.

“Or,” they offer, “you just got a hug from Jones, so it’s probably the end of the world.”

Mike laughs. "Or that,“ he agrees.

They meet. They plan, and somehow, they come up with something that just might work. The nine of them in a garage, Sophie bounding excitedly between them, and her excitement is contagious, almost enough to make Mike think that maybe he wasn’t lying, that maybe they will, in fact, be okay.

They film, and they launch, and it _works_ , it becomes something bigger than any of them had thought, and Brandon’s wound tight like a spring, like he’s waiting to snap, but he keeps going, keeps working and pouring every hour into making this, making it good. Mike wants to lean over to him during their group streams, during setup for the podcast, and pull him in for a hug, tell him _you can relax for just a second, I promise_ , rub his back a little and work out some of the tension, but he doesn’t. He keeps his hands to himself (and to Brad, and Ian, and everyone else who will smile instead of tense up at his touch), and he tries to encourage Jones in any way he can.

It’s a podcast a month or two in when Brandon makes the first crack in the wall between them, when Mike accidentally makes an innuendo and he can see Brandon and Kyle exchange a look, testing if they’re going to go there. Brandon does, bursting out laughing, dropping a hand to Mike’s knee, squeezing his fingers there, and Mike feels his face go instantly hot. 

"I didn’t mean it like - ” he objects, but Brandon’s still laughing, and his hand is warm through Mike’s jeans, and he can’t think of anything else to say, can’t keep defending himself, just smiles helplessly back.

It’s easier after that, a little, but somehow more complicated, because Mike’s still reserved, still trying not to touch Brandon, to honor that request he’d made so long ago, but Brandon is in his space, so close and comfortable and tactile, and Mike wants nothing more than to lean into the touch, to reciprocate, and he’s no longer sure where any of the lines are.

It’s a few months later when Brandon full on hugs him, when they’re teamed up for a stream and destroy Ben and Brad, and Brandon reaches out and just drags Mike in, wrapping him into his arms, so warm and strong and comfortable, and Mike catches his breath, closes his eyes for just a moment to enjoy the feeling of it before he speaks.

“Jones,” he says. His voice is quiet, muffled against Brandon’s shoulder, and he can feel the moment when Brandon goes stiff, drawing away. He backs up slowly, guilt written all over his face as he slides back toward the arm of the couch, but he doesn’t quite move out of Mike’s space, still against his side. Ben and Brad are still laughing loudly on the other end of the couch, and no one seems to notice the awkwardness between them, but Mike can feel the way Jones is practically vibrating beside him, like he can’t decide what to do with any of his body parts.

Mike makes a show of settling in, pressing himself against Brandon’s side until there’s no good place for Brandon’s arm to go but around Mike’s shoulders, and Brandon seems to take that as some sort of sign, some permission, because he goes slowly limp beside Mike, letting his arm hang heavily around him. Mike cuddles in, feeling Brandon warm and comfortable next to him, and it’s been months of this, of Brandon seeming to forget himself and let himself be casual and free with Mike for just a few seconds at a time, just long enough for Mike to want it to continue before he pulls back, gets composed again. So this time, Mike doesn’t give him the time to get composed. He wants him relaxed and soft and charming in all of the ways he lets himself be with Ian, and Brad, and Kyle, but never with Mike. So he curls up against Brandon, letting his head drop to his shoulder, his arm drape around his waist, and it’s so nice that Mike never wants the stream to end, doesn’t want to switch to the podcast, just wants to stay tucked there against Brandon’s side for the rest of the night.

Instead, time passes, and Brandon eventually peels himself away from Mike to shut down the stream, but when they sit back down onto the couch for the podcast, there’s a little less space between them than there would be normally, Brandon letting his leg drop against Mike’s, their shoulders brush together.

Mike hovers at the end of the night, packing up the games he’s brought slowly until Kyle and Brad have made their way out. He can feel Brandon’s eyes on him, but he ignores them until he’s done, until everything he brought has been carefully packed away, and only then does he look up at him, sitting on the couch with his laptop, still reading chat.

“Night, Huber,” Brandon says mildly, but Mike doesn’t pick up his bag, and Brandon sighs. “Would you like something?” he prompts.

“Well.” Mike settles onto the couch. “I’d kind of like some clarification.”

“On?”

“Why it is that you can get in my space anytime you feel like, but I haven’t been allowed to touch you since we were at GT.”

Brandon goes pale. “Oh,” he says. “We’re doing this.”

“I’m just saying, if the rules have changed, can you just let me know? Because it actually takes a lot of my attention and concentration to remember to give certain people more space than others, and if I can relax around you a little, I - ” he shrugs. “That might be nice." 

Brandon sets his laptop aside. "If you want me to stop touching you- ”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Yeah,” Brandon says. “I do.”

“I’ve just - I’ve been respecting that you don’t want me all up in your space, but - I mean, if it was a professionalism thing, we’re a little more casual here than we used to be.”

“It is,” Brandon says automatically, then corrects himself. “It was.” He looks at Mike for a long moment like he’s trying to make up his mind about something, and he finally sighs. “No,” he says. “That’s a lie. It was all a lie.” His eyes shift away from Mike, and his voice is rough and strained. “I lied and I kept lying.”

“What?” Mike feels his stomach drop. “Jones, what…what do you mean?”

“I mean - ” Brandon scrubs a hand across his face. “I mean I had to tell you that. I couldn’t keep going along pretending like everything was fine, like you could treat me the same as you did with Brad or Ian and I wouldn’t - ” he broke off.

“Wouldn’t what?”

He gives a bitter little laugh. “I don’t know how to say no to you, Huber. I needed to put some distance there, some boundaries, because I was your boss.”

“That wasn’t a lie, though,” Mike objects. “You were my boss.”

“That wasn’t the lie, Huber. The lie was the reason. It wasn’t professionalism. It was self preservation.”

“Because?” Mike presses, and he knows he’s pushing, taking this too far, but Brandon looks so miserable, like he’s put all of his effort into not having this conversation, and maybe just saying it would let him relax for once, so Mike pushes. He scoots closer on the couch, looks Brandon right in the eye. “What did you want, Jones? What were you trying to say no to?”

He thinks for a second that it’s too much, too far, that Brandon’s not going to respond, that he’s going to kick Huber out entirely. Instead, he lets out a broken sigh and shifts his eyes away. “Goddamn it, Huber. Don’t make me say it.” He looks back to him. “You don’t want this. You don’t want the mess that this would become.”

“You don’t know what I want,” Mike points out, and in all the ways he’s imagined this happening, this was never one of them, but he keeps going, because Jones apparently needs to hear it. “You never asked. You just decided this whole thing on your own, because what? You didn’t trust me to know what I wanted? Didn’t think I was mature enough to think over the consequences?” He looks steadily at Brandon. “I’ve thought about it, Jones. And I’m still here. I could have walked away in February, and I didn’t. Because I want this.”

“ _This?_ ” Brandon asks, and his voice is unsteady, his eyes catching Mike’s.

“Yeah,” Mike says. “This. _You_.” It should be more complicated than that, should be terrifying to say those words with Brandon so close on the couch, their legs nearly pressing together, but it’s not. It’s one of the easiest things Mike’s ever done to just admit it, to stop holding back, to look at Brandon the way he always wants to, take in how pretty his eyes look in the dim light of the garage, the dusting of gray at his temples, the uncertain line of his lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Jones.”

Brandon breathes in sharply. “Huber,” he says, and it sounds like defeat, like rejection, until his fingers reach up and press to the curve of Mike’s jaw. He lets the breath out, slow and shaky.

“Please?” Mike’s voice is small and unfamiliar, and Brandon lets out a low broken noise at the sound of it before leaning in and pressing their mouths together.

The kiss is slow but desperate, Brandon’s fingers going tight against Mike’s skin, his lips warm and soft and thorough as he makes Mike melt against him. He’s breathing unsteadily when they finally pull apart, and he lets out a shaky laugh.

“Dammit, I was hoping it would be terrible. That would make this a lot easier.”

Mike laughs. “It is easy,” he objects, tilting his head against Brandon’s hand. “Or it can be.”

Brandon shakes his head. “You know it can’t, Huber.”

“Why not?” Mike demands. He pulls away to tick the points off on his fingers. “We’re both adults. We’re into each other. I’m single right now and you’re in an open marriage - yeah, don’t think I wasn’t paying attention when Amanda let that fact drop. You’re not my boss anymore, since we’re all technically co-founders and I’m not even full time. So? I’m not seeing the problem here.”

“You’ve just got it all figured out, don’t you?” Brandon sighs. “And what happens when you get sick of this? When you realize that you’re an all or nothing kind of guy, or you meet someone new, or you just decide it’s not working for you anymore? What then? We work together painfully for a while before one of us finally walks away? I might not be your boss anymore, but we still have a company and a brand to think about, and right now that has to be more important than…whatever this could be.”

“A, I think you’re underestimating how very unlikely all of those scenarios are, and B, people can break up and still work together. Still be friends, even. I mean, look at Brad and Ian. They’re perfectly fine. So I really don’t think - ”

“Wait.” Brandon interrupts him. “Brad and…Ian?”

Mike stares at him. “Yeah?” He says. “You…missed that?”

“I - ” Brandon looks stunned. “Yeah. I missed that.”

Mike shrugs. “Yeah, they dated for like a few months last year. They were both figuring some stuff out, it didn’t work out, and they’re _fine_. You didn’t even know. So…?” He holds his hands out. “I want to try this, Jones.”

“I - ” Brandon falls quiet for a long moment before saying, “I want to, too. I just don’t know that it’s the right call.”

“When was the last time this year that you stopped worrying about what the right call was and just _did_ something?”

Brandon laughs. “Like, right then?” he waves vaguely between them.

Mike grins. “Nah, that doesn’t count. You were still worrying. I could feel it.”

Brandon chuckles. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I was. I…I don’t know, Huber. I probably haven’t.”

“Well?” Mike leans in. “Why don’t you let me help?” This time he’s the one who kisses Brandon, and he thinks for a second that Brandon’s going to pull away, to push Huber’s to arm’s length and keep him there, but instead he parts his lips, leaning forward and pressing a hand to Mike’s side, and Mike can feel his whole body respond to the touch, surging toward Brandon and tucking himself against him as they kiss.

By the time they pull apart to breathe, they’re hopelessly tangled together, Mike half on Brandon’s lap, and Brandon lets out a low quiet laugh, his hands staying firm and warm against Mike’s hips.

“You’ve really thought about this?” he asks.

“ _So_ much.”

“And it’s still something you want?”

“So _so_ much.”

Brandon laughs again, and this time when Mike leans down to kiss him, he can feel all of the tension drain from Brandon, like he’s been holding onto it for months, for years. He shifts under Mike, rocking his hips toward him almost impatiently, and Mike lets a hand slide down Brandon’s side, settle at the edge of the waistband of his pants. Brandon gasps sharply into Mike’s mouth, and when Mike breaks the kiss, Brandon’s eyes flutter open like he’s slightly dazed.

“Hey,” he says, fingers going more firm against Mike. “We don’t have to – ” Mike tilts his hips against him, and the rest of his words are choked off. “Oh,” he breathes out. "I mean, or we could…”

“I want to,” Mike says, simple and direct, and Brandon nods.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “me too.” He lets his head fall back against the couch, looking up at Mike with an almost smug expression, and the next words out of his mouth make Mike draw in a sharp gasp of breath. 

“Touch me?”


End file.
